


Conceal

by BreakfastTea



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 20:17:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13442556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: It's winter, and Noctis struggles to hide the pain he's in from everyone around him, especially his father.





	Conceal

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a lovely anon on my [Tumblr](https://breakfastteatime.tumblr.com) who made a request that Noctis hides his pain from others. I didn't *quite* get to the saving part and adapted it to more Noct helping his father, but I hope you enjoy it!!! <3

An alarm woke Noctis. Honestly, it awoke him for probably the fifth time that morning, but he wasn’t ready. He reached for his phone, determined to his _Snooze_ one more time. It couldn’t be time to get up yet. The sun hadn’t even risen yet. Why did school have to start _so_ early?

Winter really and truly was the absolute worst.

There came a knock on his bedroom door. “Breakfast’s waiting,” Ignis said. “You’d best get up before it gets cold. And you know you can’t be late for school.”

Noctis knew. That was why he always set his alarm at least an hour earlier than necessary in the hopes he might wake up in time. Or, at least, feel more awake by the time he really had to be out of bed.

“Noct?” Ignis called. “Up. Now.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Good.”

Sighing, Noctis sat up. He winced, a sharp pain jolting through his back and sending fireworks through his skull. The headache he’d gone to bed with had upgraded itself over night. Fine. He’d sneak a couple of painkillers before he went to school. A headache, not even one threatening to tip over into a migraine, was nothing to bug Ignis about.

He pushed his blankets off, hissing at the tightness in his back. His old wound hadn’t been good for the past couple of days, the cold weather gripping the city affecting him like it did every winter. He hated it, hated that his body hadn’t, and wouldn’t, fully heal. Sitting still, waiting for the pain to subside, he heard rain slapping his bedroom windows. The temptation to roll over and take a sick day called out to him.

Except he had an appointment with his dad after school, and missing that meant he might not be able to see him for a few more months. It’d been weeks since they’d last spent real time together. Noctis didn’t want to miss his chance.

Okay. He could do this.

Noctis planted his feet on the ground and stood up. His legs immediately gave out. He caught himself on his bed before hitting the ground. A sharp gasp was the only sound he made. White hot agony burned through his nerves. Teeth clenched, sweat coating his face, Noctis waited, but Ignis didn’t come barging in. Good. He hadn’t heard a crash and therefore knew nothing.

Swallowing further cries of pain, Noctis’ fingers clawed at the bedsheets. He clenched his teeth and pushed himself upright. Muscles taut, pain shot down his spine, nausea spurting through his stomach. He locked his trembling knees and slowly stood straight. His pulse pounded in his neck, his mouth filling with saliva. He breathed deep, fighting the pain and the urge to hurl.

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.”

When he felt less sick, he walked around his room until the pain eased and his muscles loosened enough for him to not double over like a wizened old man.

Opening his bedroom door and striving for his usual, chilled out expression, he resisted the urge to rub his throbbing head. It was going to be one of _those_ days. He’d just have to get through it. That was all. One step at a time.

“Good morning,” Ignis said. He sat at the table, drinking coffee and reading the morning newspaper. “If you hurry, you’ll have time for a shower.”

Noctis fixed Ignis with a glare. “Are you trying to tell me I smell?”

Ignis didn’t look back. “Your hair has seen better days.”

Rolling his eyes, Noctis sat down and ate his breakfast. Or, he tried to. Between the headache and the backpain, he really didn’t have an appetite. He forced down a few bites, desperate to avoid revealing how bad he felt. When his stomach begged for reprieve, he stood up as smoothly as possible and headed to the bathroom.

“Not hungry?” Ignis asked.

“You’ve made me paranoid. Now I think I smell. And the Crown Prince can’t go to school smelling bad.” The lie slipped out easily enough.

And Ignis bought it. “There’s a fine line between duty and vanity.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t take too long.”

Noctis slipped into the bathroom and hit the shower. The hot water felt amazing on his back and neck, soothing the pain. He couldn’t help but release a huge sigh of relief. Hot showers always helped.

At least, they did until he had to step back out into the cold air.

Noctis hear a knock on the door. “Five minutes and we have to go,” Ignis called.

“Yeah,” Noctis sighed. He needed to think of a way to take some painkillers without Ignis knowing. He washed the last of the shampoo out of his hair, turned off the water and grabbed a towel. He dried himself off and brushed his teeth, mulling over ways to take medicine without Ignis’ knowledge.

Easy. He could claim he’d left a textbook behind. No, an exercise book. Otherwise Ignis would give him some long spiel about the importance of learning to share.

Three minutes later, Noctis was dressed and ready for school. He stepped out of the apartment with Ignis, then, before they could board the elevator, made a big deal out of searching his school bag.

“What have you lost?” Ignis asked.

“No, not lost. Left on my desk.” The lift doors opened. “Ignis, I’m sorry. Can you bring the car out front? I need to grab my history book.”

Ignis stepped into the lift. “How many times have I told you to pack your bag for school the night before?”

“I know, I know. I’ll meet you out front.”

The doors closed between them. Noctis turned back to the apartment, dropped his bag, kicked off his shoes and hurried as best he could into the kitchen. He filled a glass of water and rummaged in the medicine cabinet for a packet of painkillers. He went to the very back, knowing (no, hoping) Ignis wouldn’t notice. He popped a couple, swallowed them, then tucked the box back where it belonged.

Ignis wouldn’t have to know.

Downing the rest of the water, Noctis dried the glass and returned put it back in cupboard. Pain fading behind a chemical rush, Noctis headed back to the door, slipped his shoes back on, grabbed his bag and headed down to the elevator.

One problem solved. Now all he had to do was make it through the rest of his day.

* * *

The final bell rang. The teacher shouted out some last minute instructions before everyone rushed to the door.

Prompto leapt up from his seat, stretching and yawning. “Another day comes to an end! Freedom never tasted so good.”

Noctis slid his books into his bag. “You know it’s only Monday, right?”

“Don’t ruin this for me, Noct. I’m happy over here,” Prompto grumbled.

“And we’ve got midterms next week.”

“Noct.”

“And after midterms, it’ll be – Ow!” Noctis rubbed his forehead. “Did you just throw a pencil at me?”

“You’re ruining my good mood.”

“Sorry.”

“So, wanna head to the arcade? I heard they got that new fighting game in and I wanna get the top score.”

“I can’t.” Noctis stood up. His back tugged painfully; the morning’s medicine had worn off after lunch. “Dad wants to see me. Probably wants to check in on my magic training.”

“How’s it going?” Prompto asked.

“Okay, I guess. I haven’t blown anything up lately.”

“Is that an improvement?”

“Yes!”

They headed out of the classroom. If Prompto noticed the slow pace, he didn’t comment.

“You nervous?” Prompto asked.

“No.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah.”

“You look nervous.”

“I’m not!” He was in pain. He wanted to see his dad, but he also desperately wanted to get off his feet and sleep until he felt better… maybe just hibernate until the spring came. Was that possible?

“Don’t worry, the arcade will still be there tomorrow.” Prompto slapped his shoulder. “Does that work for you?”

Pain fizzled down Noctis’ spine. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

“You okay?” Prompto asked.

“Fine,” Noctis said. He cleared his throat and forced a smile. “Sorry. Distracted.”

“About seeing your dad?”

“Mmm.” Right now, he really regretted not bringing his painkillers with him. Headache. Backache. He was a wreck. A fifteen-year-old wreck.

“Is he as scary as he looks?” Prompto asked.

Noctis laughed despite himself. “You think my dad’s scary?”

Prompto stared at him. “He’s the King. I can’t imagine what it’s like when you get in trouble and he has to lecture you about whatever it is you do wrong.”

“I’m the perfect child,” Noctis said.

“Ha! Yeah, right! Ignis is always lecturing you.”

“Ignis is stricter than my dad,” Noctis mumbled.

“Seriously?”

“Okay, no. But Ignis has more opportunities to lecture me.”

Prompto laughed. “Have you done anything wrong lately?”

“Uh, no.”

“You sure?”

Noctis stared at him. “It sounds like you actually want me to get in trouble with my dad.”

“No, never!”

“Really.”

“It’s just… I kinda… it’s like… does he sit on a throne when he shouts at you?”

Noctis snorted.

“He totally does, doesn’t he!”

“Actually, he tends to sit behind a desk. The throne’s reserved for special occasions.”

“Don’t spoil my fun, Noct. See, when I picture you at home, I – ”

Prompto described his mental images of life in the Citadel, gesturing wildly. They headed outside, moving through the excitable crowd of fellow students. Prompto’s words faded out as Noctis tugged his coat around him, wishing the weather would warm up.

“ – lock you in the dungeon if you really misbehave.”

Noctis looked at his friend. “You know there isn’t actually a dungeon in the Citadel.”

“That’s what you have to tell me,” Prompto said. “We’re friends, but I understand that as a commoner I can’t know all the royal secrets.”

“No, seriously, there isn’t –”

“It’s okay!” Prompto said. He winked knowingly. “I understand the necessity for secrets, Your Highness! The Citadel’s secret dungeon for traitors and badly behaved princes will remain a secret!”

Smiling at his friend’s antics, Noctis rubbed his aching head. “Yeah, thanks. Good to know I can trust you with state secrets. Because if I couldn’t, I hate to think what dad would do to you.”

Prompto stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

Noctis caught sight of Ignis waiting by the car at the gate. “I gotta go.”

“Hey, Noct?”

“Yeah?”

“You sure you’re alright?” Prompto asked. “Dunno if you noticed, but you’ve been kinda weird all day.” He looked worried. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” Noctis said. “See you tomorrow?”

“Sure!” Prompto jogged off. He turned back and shouted: ”Don’t forget to complete that history assignment.”

“Wait, what history assignment?”

Prompto stared at him in disbelief. “Were you paying attention at all today?”

“Uh –” Maybe he hadn’t done such a good job hiding how bad he felt.

“Ah, quit messing with me. You’ve got it! See you tomorrow!”

Or maybe he had. Prompto ran off before Noctis could find out what history assignment he’d managed to miss out on. He scrubbed at his hair. Seriously, how had he missed that? Had he fallen asleep in class? He knew he’d been a bit spaced out because of the painkillers, but –

“Noct? Do you intend to dawdle all afternoon? You know your father’s time is limited.”

Noctis looked over to Ignis, shook off his confusion, and pasted a neutral expression on his face. “Let’s go,” he said, climbing into the car.

Ignis walked around and slipped into the driver’s seat. “Good day at school?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have much homework?”

“Some.”

“Anything due tomorrow?”

“History, apparently.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and fired off a quick message to Prompto. _Seriously, what was the homework? I guess I fell asleep._ “I’ll do it when I get back tonight.”

Noctis leaned back in his chair, hoping he looked more relaxed than he felt. He wished he’d shoved the painkillers in his bag and taken some more after lunch. He didn’t want his dad to know how bad his back was. He didn’t want him to worry.

He’d just have to hide it.

They reached the Citadel half an hour later. Ignis dropped Noctis off. He slid out of the car, silently begging his legs to hold him. They did, but it was a close call. Waves of pain radiated up and down his back, shooting bolts of agony into his legs. He forced himself to walk normally, teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. He couldn’t let Ignis see. He moved out of the parking lot into one of the private elevators. Inside, he resisted the urge to slump against a wall. If he did that, there was a very real chance he wouldn’t be able to move.

The lift swept him up to the Citadel’s upper levels where his father’s office and private rooms were. He stepped out. Guards bowed to him. He nodded back and moved down the hallway. He wished he knew exactly what Dad wanted today. The thought of training, of using magic, made him want to run away and find a corner to hide in.

He reached his father’s office and knocked on the door.

“Enter,” Regis called from within.

Noctis opened the door and stepped in. Regis looked up from his work with a warm smile.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Noct, there you are! Come, sit. I’ll have refreshments sent up.”

Noctis moved across the room while his dad made the call. He sat down in the chair, freezing as a particularly vicious jolt tore through his back.

Thankfully, Regis didn’t appear to notice.

“Good day at school?” Regis asked.

“Yeah, fine.”

“You’re settling in alright at high school?”

“Yeah.”

“Ignis tells me you’ve made a friend.”

Noctis smiled. “Yeah, I have.”

“Took you a while.”

“Dad!”

Regis laughed. “I’m joking, I swear.”

Noctis pouted.

“I’m glad, really. The best of friendships are always worth waiting for.”

Noctis relaxed. “Yeah, they are.”

“You’ve kept your grades up?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Regis leaned back in his chair. “I thought today you might like to show me these magical flasks Gladio keeps telling me about. I’m most impressed.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Noctis said. “Ignis gave me a book about the history of magic in the kingdom and there were records of an ancient queen who stored magic in specially created flasks. We dug some up in the archives and I tried it out.”

“And it worked reliably?”

“None of them have broken or exploded in someone’s face, if that’s what you’re asking. Well, except for that one time when I blended a Poison status change effect in and didn’t get the balance right. But that was only one time. I haven’t had problems like that since, I swear.”

“No, I know. You’re doing well. And these flasks intrigue me. What an ingenious way to share magic.”

“That’s what Ignis thought. He’s tried them. Gladio, too. It works.”

“Are you carrying any right now?”

Noctis thought about what he’d stored in the Armiger. “Yeah. One. It’s a pretty weak Blizzard spell. I blended it with a broken clock and it actually casts Stop on people.”

“People, Noct?”

Noctis shrugged. “Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just the Poison spell, but the Stop one wasn’t an accident.”

Regis stared at him. “Do I want to know who you tested it on?”

“Probably not.”

Regis sighed. “That was very reckless.”

“I read about it in the book before I tried! I knew it would be okay. I only lost about ten seconds.”

“That isn’t comforting,” Regis said.

“The book said –”

Regis waved a hand. “Let’s not worry about that. I’ve been thinking about how we can create a stock of spells for the Crownsguard to use here in case of an emergency. In an ideal world, we’d find a way to mass-produce them, but that would be far too much to ask of you.”

“What? No, Dad, I’ll help anyway I can. You can’t do it all yourself.”

“You’re right, I can’t do it by myself. In fact, I can’t do it at all.”

Noctis stared. “You can’t fill flasks?”

“Not my specialty, I’m afraid.”

“Seriously?”

“Quite serious, son,” Regis said.

Noctis didn’t know what to say. When it came to magic, he thought there was nothing his dad couldn’t do.

There was a knock at the door. A young man entered with a tray containing a teapot and a large cake. Noctis’ stomach growled audibly. He blushed. Regis chuckled, and indicated for the man to place the items on the desk. The servant did as asked, bowed, and took his leave.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Regis said, pouring tea. “I’d like to run a trial with these flasks. I don’t expect you to create hundreds by yourself. Perhaps fifty to begin with. See what use they might be to our non-Kingsglaive soldiers.”

“Okay,” Noctis said. “I can do that.”

“Wonderful! I’d love to watch how you do this. I read the same texts many years ago but never found the knack for it.”

“Really?”

“Really! You seem very surprised by this.”

“I thought you were good at everything.”

“Ah, so you’ve learned your old man isn’t perfect,” Regis said. “What a sad day this is.” He held out the tea. “Here.”

Noctis didn’t think. He pushed himself up, but his back screamed in protest. A grunt of pain escaped him.

“Noct?”

He fell back in the chair. “Sorry,” he said, voice tight as wave after wave of pain battered him.

Regis was up and around the table in seconds. “Your back?”

“Yeah.” Noctis lowered his head, desperately trying to hold it together. “Guess it’s kinda bad today.”

“Just today?” Regis asked.

Noctis mumbled under his breath.

“Speak up.”

“Maybe for the past week.”

“Noct,” Regis said. “You should’ve said.”

“It’s fine. I just moved wrong.” And now his headache throbbed in time with his aching back.

Regis’ hand rested lightly atop Noctis’ head. “It isn’t fine.”

Noctis sucked in a deep breath. His dad needed him. He forced a smile and raised his head. “It’s fine now, really. Just a twinge. It’s always like this in the winter. Don’t worry.”

Regis stepped back. “If you’re sure.”

Noctis nodded. “Sure.”

Regis passed him a cup of tea and sliced a piece of cake. “Well then, eat up, and we’ll head down to the training course.”

Smiling through his pain, Noctis forced the tea and cake down.

* * *

The training hall was empty. Noctis concentrated, pulled the flask out of the Armiger and, once he was sure his dad was safe behind him, tossed it down to the targets at the far end of the hall. Throwing something did not help his back at all, but the sound of the Blizzard spell hitting the target drowned out his pained groan.

“I should’ve thought to throw a ball so I could see the Stop spell in action,” Regis said.

“Huh,” Noctis said. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Please, please don’t experiment on yourself again,” Regis said. “When I agreed to let live on your own, it was under the impression that you would be capable of taking care of yourself.”

“If that was true, Ignis wouldn’t come by every day.”

Regis chuckled. “True.”

Noctis smiled. “Okay, what would you like to see?”

A magic flask appeared in Regis’ hand. “I’d like to see how you create a flask. And don’t worry about limiting it. Really go for it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can shield us.”

“Can you shield the room?”

“It will be fine.” Regis gave the flask a shake. “Go ahead. Show off.”

Swallowing his nerves, Noctis took the flask. He lowered himself to the floor, even though sitting on the ground was so not what his back needed. He took a deep breath, his mind focusing on the elements he intended to channel into the bottle. Magic responded, ice dancing out of his hands and flowing into the flask. He fell into a trance. The magic soothed him, the pain ebbing away.

Despite his dad’s request, Noctis didn’t make the flask as powerful as he knew he could. He cut off the magic and blinked, coming back to his normal senses. His back protested, his body heavy like he’d used too much magic. How could that be? He’d barely done anything.

“Noct?”

Knowing he couldn’t stand without giving away just how much he hurt, Noctis held the flask out to his dad. “All yours.” He tried to keep his voice light. He thought he managed.

“Is it hard?” Regis asked, taking the flask.

“Is what hard?”

“Creating the flasks.”

“Not really. Just have to be careful of Stasis.”

“Have you tested your limits?”

“I made ten once,” Noctis said. “Pretty powerful ones.”

“And then hit stasis?” Regis asked, weighing the flask in his hand.

“Yes.” Stasis was miserable. He hated it, the feeling of being cut off from the magic he’d known his whole life, too exhausted to reach out and grasp it. Even if the feeling was only temporary, it always sent his body into a tailspin. While he was getting better at stopping before he went too far, sometimes he couldn’t help it. The only way to improve his endurance was to push his limits. Sometimes he simply went too far.

“Happens to us all, I’m afraid,” Regis said.

Noctis stared up at his dad. “Even now?”

“Well, not so much now. But when I was younger. When I was still learning.” Regis tossed the flask. It hit the target. A blast of frigid air smacked into them. Regis raised a barrier around them. “Very nice, Noct!”

A proud smile lit Noctis’ features. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Come on then,” Regis said, snow falling on the other side of his barrier. “Up you jump. I’ve seen all I needed today. Let’s work out a way to gather enough flasks for emergency use.”

“Okay. I can blend spells that will also heal the user.”

“Cure magic?”

“Yeah.” Noctis wondered if battlefield medicine would do his back any good.

“Very good, Noct. You can tell me more in my office.”

Noctis tried to stand. Pain blasted through him. Muscles in spasm, he cried out, unable to move. His headache gave a vicious stab as though determined not to be drowned out by the pain in his spine and legs.

Regis, with some difficulty, knelt at Noctis’ side. “I think we need to visit the infirmary.”

“No,” Noctis gasped. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t need to pretend,” Regis said gently. “Tell me the truth. Are you really alright?”

Noctis’ hair fell over his face. Shame flooded him, his cheeks burning bright. “No. Maybe not. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. We should speak with the doctors. Find out how best to treat the pain.”

“Make it stop being winter,” Noctis said. His eyes burned with unshed tears. He could not lose it. Not now. Not in front of his dad. “Could you do that?”

“Ah, if only. Even my magic isn’t so powerful.”

“That’s a shame,” Noctis said, laughing weakly.

Regis stroked his hair. “Do you feel ready to get up or should I have someone come up here?”

“I can move,” Noctis said.

“Alright, slowly.”

Regis got back to his feet and held out his hands. Noctis took them and together they managed to get him to his feet. Treacherous legs wobbling, Noctis clung to his dad. The pain was terrible, his muscles cramping and locked as stiff as bone. He couldn’t remember the last time it had been so bad. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologising.”

“But you wanted me to help and –”

“Noct.”

“I want to help and this is getting in the way and I’m sorry and –”

“Noct.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll make the flasks, I promise. I don’t need to see a doctor. Let’s do it –”

“Noctis!”

Noctis blinked and stared up at his dad.

“Relax,” Regis said. “There’s no rush. I want you well. That’s the only thing that matters.”

Tears threatened again. Noctis released his grip on Regis and scrubbed at his eyes before they could fall. His leg buckled. Regis grabbed him, holding him up.

“Sorry.”

“Apologise one more time, and I’ll have you locked down.”

Noctis’ lips twitched into a grim smile. “In the Citadel’s secret dungeon?”

“Secret dungeon?” Regis asked.

“My friend thinks there’s a secret dungeon in the Citadel,” Noctis said, voice tight with pain.

“Darn. I thought I’d done a better job covering that up.”

Moving as fast as his back and legs would allow, Noctis went with his father to the Citadel’s infirmary. People nodded to them as they walked, too polite to ask if either required their assistance. Noctis resisted the urge to look away. He’d spent his whole life being trained not to do that, and being in pain didn’t allow him a reprieve.

By the time they reached the infirmary, he struggled not to weep with the agony radiating through him. Tears escaped regardless. Only his dad’s support, and his own stubbornness, kept him moving. The doctors took one look at him and led him into a private room. Regis came with him.

Half an hour, and a large dose of painkillers and muscle relaxants later, Noctis was slumped on a bed, battling to stay awake. “Can’t we go somewhere else?” he asked his dad, words slurring.

“And how do you intend to get there?” Regis asked, amusement colouring his tone.

“Um… roll?”

Regis laughed. “I’m not sure that’s very dignified.”

“Don’t want to stay here.”

“You really don’t have a choice right now.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Noctis said, eyes sliding shut no matter how hard he fought. “This wasn’t the plan.”

“Plan?”

“Mmm, plan. Didn’t want anyone to know.” He was on the edge of a precipice now, moments away from sleep.

“Next time your back hurts this much, please don’t keep it to yourself. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Whatever response Noctis wanted to say came out as garbled and nonsensical. He gave up and fell into a deep, deep sleep.

* * *

A strange sound pierced Noctis’ sleep. He opened his eyes and found himself in a dimly lit room. It took him a moment to remember this was the infirmary and his plan to not tell anyone about his back had fallen apart.

He had a vague feeling he’d let something slip, but his thoughts were slippery.

He moved gingerly, his body feeling strange. His headache had disappeared, replaced by a woolly lightness. His limbs were wobbly. For a moment, he pictured them like noodles and a hiccup of laughter escaped him.

Sleep called to him, welcoming him back with open arms. But before he could sink into a cushiony embrace, the sound startled him awake again. He frowned. What was that?

“Dad?” he called, his voice a weak croak.

No response. Looking around, Noctis realised he was alone. Unsurprising. It was the middle of the night. Dad needed his sleep too.

Still. That noise. It was weird. Like… crying.

Why was someone _crying_?

Noctis, on noodly legs (seriously, would that ever not be hilarious?), wobbled his way to the door. He fell against it, limbs not fully responding to his dozy commands. Walk? Check. Open door? Eh, let’s try falling against it. Maybe that way he’d fall right through.

Or… not.

He opened the door. Beyond was the infirmary’s hallway, private rooms and consulting offices on either side. The lights were soft, relaxing, designed to encourage rest and recovery.

Someone, somewhere, was crying.

The sound spurred him on. Noctis had to lean against a wall, but he managed to move down the corridor. He closed in on the weeping. Strangely, Noctis was certain it was a man. The sound seemed too deep for a woman.

A light shone from beneath a doorway up ahead. Noctis moved up to it. The sign read _Waiting Room_. At least, that was what Noctis thought it said. His eyes kept blurring over. It could’ve said anything. He really wasn’t sure. Maybe he needed to borrow Ignis’ glasses.

Without thinking, he opened the door.

And found his father on the other side.

“Noct!” Regis looked up. Noctis saw the tear trails running down his dad’s cheeks. “What are you doing up? You should be resting!”

Levity fading, Noctis staggered to his dad and fell onto the seat beside him. “What’s wrong?”

Regis wiped at his tears. “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all.”

Noctis frowned. “You’re lying.”

Regis smiled at him, the expression weak and watery. “Forgive me a moment of weakness.”

“I’m okay, Dad.” Noctis fought to sit straighter. He couldn’t be the reason his dad was so upset, so devastated. He cursed his own weakness. He never, ever, should’ve told his father how bad his back really was. “This… It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry so much. It won’t happen again.”

Regis stood and pulled Noctis into his arms. “No. Don’t you ever apologise.”

“But –”

“I hate to see you suffer,” Regis said. “I would do anything to take this pain from you.”

Noctis melted into his dad’s embrace, too tired and sore to fight it. “That’s nice of you.”

“How kind of you to say so,” Regis said, laughing. His hand brushed through Noctis’ hair. “You need to go back to bed. I think the doctors gave you the really good medicine.”

“M’legs are noodles.” Noctis giggled.

Regis chuckled. “I assure you, they’re not.”

Noctis’ head thudded against his dad’s shoulder. “No. Don’t wanna move.”

“I can’t carry you,” Regis said. “You may still be shorter than me, but you’re hardly hollow.”

“You’re not funny,” Noctis mumbled.

“Go back to sleep,” Regis said. “I’ll create a solution to our problem.”

“But you’re okay, Dad?”

Regis squeezed Noctis’ hand. “I’m fine. Rest. I need you well.”

Noctis drifted off. Some indeterminate time later he surfaced to the sensation of movement. Voices murmured softly overhead. He recognised the rumble of his dad’s voice, but the other? Familiar, yeah, but… eh, forget it. He couldn’t work it out. And he was far too drowsy to stay awake and work it out. He drifted off again.

The next time he awoke, he was warm and buried under blankets. Sunlight shone through a window. Noctis squinted, hands flailing to block out the bright light. By the time his eyes adjusted, he realised he was in his father’s room. He carefully sat up. His back ached, but the worst of it was still drowned out by painkillers. He breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t remember the last time his back had felt so good. And when had he last woken up in his dad’s bed? Years ago. After the attack, nightmares frequently drove him to seek out his dad in the middle of the night. A warm flush of nostalgia warmed him. He felt wonderfully safe.

Before he could get up, the doors opened. His dad walked in, smiling. “Good afternoon.”

“Good… afternoon?” It suddenly occurred to him that he was a few hours late to school. He looked down at himself and saw that he was wearing pyjamas. Had he changed in the infirmary? He flushed bright red at the thought of someone else undressing him.

Regis perched himself on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Noctis patted himself down. “I think I lost my school uniform.”

Regis shook his head. “You do worry about the strangest of things.”

“Ignis will be mad at me.”

“He’ll manage, I’m sure. Now, be honest. How do you feel?”

Noctis blinked thoughtfully, taking stock of his aches and pains. “Okay.” He ran a hand through his hair, despairing of the mess it had to be in. “Better.”

“Glad to hear it. The doctor dropped off a prescription for you. She’d rather you not leave it so long in the future.”

“But I’m fine,” Noctis said. “I don’t need anything.”

Regis looked at him. “I thought we discussed this already.”

Noctis vaguely recalled the late night discussion. He fiddled with the blankets. “How did I get here?”

“I found you a lift.”

“Huh?”

Regis chuckled. “Gladio.”

Noctis sighed. He’d never hear the last of _that_. Being carried through the Citadel like a baby… He blushed brighter. He really, really hoped no one had seen him.

Regis placed his hand over Noctis’. “Don’t worry, it was one in the morning. No one saw you. Gladio hopes you’ll feel better soon. And don’t be surprised if Ignis stops by later. He was very concerned about you. He felt awful about not noticing how bad you felt.”

“It’s not his fault.”

“No, it isn’t. Be sure to let him know.”

“I will.” Not that it would do any good. Worrying was one of Ignis’ favourite past-times.

“Good. Now, do you feel like some lunch?”

“Lunch? What happened to breakfast?”

“You slept through it.”

Noctis shuffled across the massive bed. He planted his feet on the floor.

“Take it slow,” Regis advised.

Noctis nodded and pushed himself to his feet. His back ached, but his legs held. He released a pent up breath. It was a huge improvement. A relieved smile lit up his face. “I’m okay.”

“And it’s okay to not be okay sometimes,” Regis said. “Don’t hide these things. Especially not from your friends.” He pulled a familiar phone out of his pocket. “Your friend from school, Prompto, is also very worried about you. I’ve spoken with your teachers and informed them you will return to school in a day or two. What you tell your friend is up to you.”

Noctis took his phone. “I think I’ll tell him you locked me in the dungeon.”

“Noct.” Regis’ voice held a note of disapproval.

“It’s just… Prompto doesn’t know about… this. Any of it. Or, if he does, he acts like he doesn’t really, really well. I don’t want to change that.”

Regis nodded understandingly. “So, I’ve locked you in the dungeon?”

Noctis grinned and tapped out a quick message. “I guess you have.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it, Anon! ^_^
> 
> The temptation to call this Conceal, Don't Feel, was very strong. The game actually beat me to it. There's a sidequest with that name ;)
> 
> Oooh, yeah, and I decided to make the whole Magic Flask element of the game a Noct specialty because that's the joy of writing fanfiction! Also I love the idea of him weaving magic into containers. I like to picture him sitting at the camp fire, chatting to the others while he creates massively explosive spells in tiny glass bottles. 
> 
> ...huh, that might be a story all on its own :P
> 
> Anon #2, your story will be up next! Just putting the finishing touches on it.


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